Wheatgrass. The Band.

Begin opening music. Cloud from stage left. Cloud falters, makes a sound like "tssp..." No. That isn't the cloud. That is the gas pipe, something hissing awkwardly from its single valve; but -- it's not gas that's coming out. No! Tiny leaves fly up, meet in the air, and out from them grow the branches of a tree! Cool! A freaking tree -- but what kind is it? It is a hickory brocade -- the very symbol of Wheatgrass! Who is on tour again. Who is putting on their guitars in the back. Who is preparing their arms with juice to play fourteen hours straight UNDERWATER. That is the new big thing I guess. And look now, on the rainbowy hill of old vans -- there they stand. Seven feet of pure cloud.